Poison of the Mind
by Semebay
Summary: Based on a picture from pixiv. Halloween characters  Vampire!England, murderer/Jason!America . Alfred had been ruined by him, tainted. And it was time to return the favor. Brief vampire hunt fic. Rating may go up in later additions to this AU


Based on picture from pixiv. Here: pics(dot)livejournal(dot)com /semebay/pic/00020ksz

Or here: pixiv(dot)net/ member_?mode=medium&illust_id=18000563

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><p>Whether it was a mistake or not, neither cared anymore. Years of running, years of killing and maiming had finally ensured that their fates would be entwined and tangled (as if they hadn't been before). Things were finally changing, though neither could agree on whether those changes were good or bad.<p>

Arthur's death was imminent. He was old, though his appearance didn't show it. He was slim, his face unmarred by centuries of battle and pain, his eyes forever wide with excitement, lust. He was a trickster, a puppeteer; he played with humans and beasts alike, manipulating them and tricking them into doing his bidding, demanding obedience while feigning ignorance.

Alfred had hunted for years. He hated the man, the _monster_, and he wanted nothing more than to hear as he tore through Arthur's skin, feel the cold blood running down his arms and painting the floor with gore. He wished that Arthur had a heart, so that he could make it stop. When he finally thrust his weapon through Arthur's chest, he wanted there to be more than pain. He wanted Arthur broken.

Something blue (probably that cape Arthur had worn as long as Alfred could remember) moved around a corner, and Alfred turned down the alleyway closest to him in pursuit. Arthur thought he had an advantage with age, but the reality was that Alfred was far better prepared. Alfred had walked the streets for years, and he had memorized every twist and turn. He knew where Arthur could and _would_ turn. He had spent years with the vampire, had hunted for him and traveled with him.

There was no one more dangerous to Arthur than the boy he raised.

Alfred ran as fast as he could, feet splashing through puddles left from the rain the night before. It seemed fitting that Arthur would meet his end in the daylight, unable to hide in the darkness that he had always escaped to when challenged.

A woman screamed when Alfred burst from the alley, and he hated that he left her behind, alive. His mind screamed at him to turn back and kill her, leave no witnesses, but he was more focused on the person that had made him that way.

It was always said that students would eventually surpass their teachers, and Alfred was no exception.

Alfred entered another alley and shoved trashcans aside. They crashed against each other and covered the scraping sound when Alfred reached up to grab the ladder of a fire escape. He pulled the ladder low and climbed up it while trying to be as quiet as possible, letting it glide up after him when he finally took to the stairs. Arthur probably still thought of him as a bumbling child, running into trashcans and letting victims escape only for Arthur to kill later.

The thought angered Alfred more. He reached the top of the stairs and ran out onto the roof, sure that Arthur wouldn't know he was there.

Arthur didn't.

Alfred ran, jumping from rooftop to rooftop while watching Arthur's progress. Arthur look down alleys and back streets, head never looking straight ahead while he tried to locate Alfred. He could probably smell his hunter, but he was too foolish and deluded to believe that the world had changed while he remained set in ancient ways.

When Arthur entered the church, Alfred wanted to laugh.

Arthur always had been sentimental.

Alfred ran down another fire escape, grabbing the ladder and lowering himself to the ground quickly. Arthur had met him in a church, when he had been young. Alfred didn't remember much about it, but he remembered the darkness that had swallowed the man before him. He remembered how sweet his words had sounded when he had led Alfred away, had told him about the magic within him, within both of them, a magic that hungered for blood and human life.

Alfred had believed him then, and had been pulled into a life of murder and servitude. Everything had been for Arthur.

Now, everything was for Alfred.

Alfred pushed through the doors of the church, and he finally saw him face-to-face.

Arthur hadn't run after entering the church, had waited, but then he saw it was a mistake; Alfred was serious.

Alfred didn't give Arthur a chance to flee farther into the building. He kept running, holding his chainsaw in one hand and pulling the cord with the other. It roared to life and Alfred reached out. He caught Arthur by his stupid cape and pulled him back, and they were falling and Alfred was pushing him down.

Arthur's eyes widened with what was probably fear when he landed beneath Alfred, and Alfred raised the chainsaw above his head and slammed it down.

The gears grinded to a halt after the chain tried to dig into the floor. It had scratched the surface, leaving scrapes and one large gouge in the floor before the engine stopped its rumbling and died. Arthur's eyes had softened despite the weapon by his head, the weapon that had torn into the cape beside his head and left the edges frayed.

"I'm going to kill you," Alfred told the vampire beneath him, eyes narrowed behind the mask that Arthur reached up to push aside.

"I'm sure you will." Arthur let his fingers linger there, just barely touching the mask's surface.

"You can't play with anyone anymore!" Alfred snapped. "You're done!"

Arthur pushed the mask farther back and moved his fingers to Alfred's hair. Alfred's eyes narrowed more at the action, but Arthur didn't stop.

Alfred wanted to raise his chainsaw once more, to slam it down again and again. He was done, done with the lies and being used, done with bowing down to everything that Arthur said to him.

Arthur let his fingers slide against Alfred's skin, his gaze soft but critical.

"Welcome home, Alfred."


End file.
